


Arching Up, Arching Back

by aykayem



Series: Satisfaction [6]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a beautiful summer day, one not to be wasted, but too hot to be properly outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arching Up, Arching Back

**Author's Note:**

>  

It wasn't that rare for Isabelle to be splayed out beneath Magnus, laying there casually as he worshipped her body with his hands and tongue. What was rare was her not enjoying it; she couldn't even count one instance where she hadn't, and this time around was just helping that score: he was doing well, and whether it was because of years - decades, _centuries_ \- of experience or just because he liked touching her, she didn't care.

One of his hands, still clad with numerous rings, splayed against her stomach and the curve of her ribcage, cool metal making her back arch just so; his fingers plucked at the hem of her shirt, gently pushing it up to rest just beneath her breasts. He held it there, his mouth near the waistband of her skirt, his breath warm against her skin before he licked a gentle strip from one edge of fabric to the other, tasting the familiar flavour of her skin. Both hands slid downwards, cupping her waist, holding her in place as she arched again, pressing up against his mouth; her arms were stretched out above her head, her hair spread out over his down pillows like the prettiest painting he'd ever seen. Everything about her was pristine, from the creamy pale of her skin to the ebony of her hair to the scars dancing and swirling around her, leading the eye everywhere good.

And it truly was good. Magnus couldn't name another boy she'd been with in the past year who could make her sigh and moan this way, and he would have known; when they weren't together this way, they were still best friends, oddly close from numerous shared experiences that put them so close to death that it would have been hard not to bond a little. Now they'd bonded a lot, and Magnus wouldn't have given her up for anything.

His fingers crept lower as a light breeze went its way through his apartment: it was a beautiful summer day, one not to be wasted, but too hot to be properly outside. It was better like this, with them in thin clothing that would soon be scattered around the floor, to be meandered around by a mewling Chairman Meow. He continued on like that, lifting her hips enough that his tongue could briefly dip against her navel and his fingers could find the zipper of her skirt, opening it and pushing it gradually down her hips. A soft laugh escaped Isabelle, one hand coming down to tangle through his hair affectionately as his mouth dropped lower yet, tongue pressing against her gently through the thin lace of her panties, and she arched again, his name a breath of fresh air on her lips.


End file.
